


go back to sleep

by aliatori



Series: Ali's 100 Ways Challenge [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Quiet Sex, but there are feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliatori/pseuds/aliatori
Summary: Ignis provides Gladio with some late night relief while Noctis sleeps.





	go back to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the inimitable [@xylianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xylianna/pseuds/Xylianna). All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> Set in the same 'verse as [No One Keeping Me Honest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488875) and [21\. "I think you'll like it."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15228768)

Today has been a particularly long day for Gladio.

It began with an early morning training session since King and Shield or no, they still need to stay in shape, in case anyone decides assassination is a valid political strategy. Afterwards was a Council meeting that reminded Gladio of the days before the world of ruin, long and interminable and so Six-damned boring he worried he might fall asleep. The Council meeting was followed by the grand opening of a new museum, one dedicated to the history of Lucis, that Noct’s attendance was expected at. Finally, the night ends with a brief publicity stop at some noble party—Gladio tries to remember the name of the House but finds it escapes him. Ignis had been by their sides until the party at least, and neither Noct nor Gladio had been thrilled when he made his excuses and returned to the Citadel.

Going to sleep becomes a strange affair when the three of them are split apart.

Tonight, it’s Ignis, held up in some committee meeting that he probably volunteered to chair because he doesn’t have _enough_ work to do. That alone adds to the strangeness of the whole situation, since if anyone is missing, it’s usually Gladio and Noct; late night emergencies don’t wait for dawn and Kings don’t travel without their Shields.

Either way, there’s nothing Gladio can do to change the situation, so he deals with it like he usually does.

After escorting Noct back to the (way too damn fancy, if you ask Gladio) royal chambers they share, both of them strip out of their formal attire, black kingly raiment and Lucian formal robes. (The outfits make him and Noct look more like their fathers than themselves, ghosts staring back at them in a gilded mirror.) It shouldn’t be this much of a production to get dressed and undressed, but much like everything in post-dawn Insomnia, it is.

Back in their chambers, Gladio cards his fingers through Noct’s hair and steals a few languid kisses once they’re free from cumbersome tiers of fabric. He sort of hopes the kissing will lead to something more—he’s not too particular about what _sort_ of more, he’s just a little needy and frustrated tonight and some good sex would go a long way—but Noct murmurs a ‘love you’ and excuses himself to their gigantic, fancy bathroom for a bath and bed.

A monstrous, plush sectional sits opposite the massive canopied bed the three of them share. Gladio stretches out on the couch and attempts to read, hoping that Ignis will return home before sleep claims Gladio. His gaze keeps cutting from the open page to Noctis, curled up into a ball and wearing black and silver boxer briefs and a distressed grey tee. Noct looks more like the shy Prince that he and Ignis fell in love with instead of the confident King he’s become. The dark smudges under Noct’s eyes prompt Gladio to make a mental note—they’re due for a vacation soon, that’s for damn sure, and the Lucian kingdom will have to find a way to survive without the three of them for a week or two.

First, the yawns start, then the eyes closing and opening to find time missing. Gladio resigns himself to the fact that it’ll be a late night for Ignis and abandons his book on the couch. One perfunctory shower later, he strips down to his own boxer briefs (that match Noct’s, funnily enough) and climbs atop the plush mattress. He can’t help reaching out and tucking a strand of Noct’s black hair behind his ear before retreating to his side of the bed.

He gets comfortable, sheets tangled around him in just the right way, and waits. Sleep drags him under with one effortless pull.

Gladio doesn’t dream a lot. He’s glad that he doesn’t, because when he does, they tend to be of nights and fights he’d rather not remember. Tonight’s dream begins in a much more forgiving fashion. It features him and Ignis—they’re younger in the dream than they are now, before time and prophecy and darkness gave them scars both seen and unseen. Ignis lays beside him, seafoam eyes half lidded and soft plaits of hair falling into his face, his hand trailing down Gladio’s chest to cup his cock and give it a gentle squeeze. Ignis has never been shy about taking what he wants (with Gladio’s freely given permission), and Gladio bites his lower lip as Ignis strokes him to hardness.

“Gladiolus.”

His cock twitches in Ignis’s grip as he whispers Gladio’s name against the shell of his ear, his breath warm and moist. He can count on one hand the number of times Noct’s used his full name, but Ignis… Ignis uses it to his every advantage. He knows exactly how much Gladio loves the way his name sounds when falling from Ignis’s lips, shaped by his accent, and most of all whispered in his ear.

Except…

“Gladiolus, are you awake?”

He blinks and the dawn light streaming through Ignis’s apartment becomes twilight at the Citadel. They always leave a single lamp on at night—they used to leave one on for Noctis, but after ten years of darkness, they can all use it—dimmed so low that it barely does anything at all, but it’s enough for Gladio to see by. Noct sleeps right where Gladio left him, still as a stone, but there are lips on the nape of Gladio’s neck and hands idly stroking his obliques and chest.

“Mmmmm... Iggy?” Gladio asks, the words gravelly and thick with sleep. He recognizes bits and pieces of Ignis as the haze of sleep clears: the clean, fresh scent of his shampoo, the long, elegant fingers splayed over his abs, the exact amount of pressure Gladio likes as Ignis sucks a mark into his neck.

He’s also achingly, painfully hard in his briefs. Astrals, he realizes in the sluggish way of people waking up, he’s not alone in that—the feel of Ignis grinding his cock against the small of Gladio’s back, hard and slick with a bit of what must be precome, chases the last remnants of sleep away.

“Good dream?” Ignis asks, voice low, his tone sending a wave a frisson along Gladio’s skin. 

“Pretty good. Better now.”

Ignis’s quiet, dark laugh stokes the heat that simmers low in Gladio’s belly. His hands skirt lower down Gladio’s stomach, one gripping his waist and the other slipping under the waistband of his briefs. Gladio fails to stifle a gasp as Ignis curls a hand around his cock; Ignis gently pulls back his foreskin and runs a thumb along the head of it, smearing a fresh bead of precome around beneath his finger.

“Is this alright?”

Gladio’s pretty sure he’d agree to most anything with Ignis’s hand around his shaft and whispering into his ear. “ _Fuck,_ Iggy, yeah… Six, that’s nice—”

Ignis moves his hand from Gladio’s hip to place a finger against his lips.

“Shhhh. You’ll wake Noctis.”

Fair point. Not that Gladio would mind if Noct _did_ wake up, but it’s hit or miss how his mood would be, and right now he’s far more interested in whatever Ignis has in mind. He’s especially interested as Ignis begins to stroke his cock with slow, controlled passes, exacting in the amount of pressure he applies.

It doesn’t take long for Gladio’s breath to start stuttering on the exhale—Ignis applies all the lessons he’s learned about Gladio’s preferences, going straight for the kill—and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning. Part of him wants to grind backwards against Ignis’s erection, hot and slick and velvety soft against his back, but the other part wants more of Ignis touching his dick. He lets his body do the talking for him, his hips bucking into Ignis’s grip and chasing the friction he craves.

When his thighs start to tremble, Ignis slows his pace and gives Gladio a chance to catch his breath. Gladio’s thankful for the lapse, too, because Ignis chooses that moment to push against his lips with his index and middle fingers until Gladio parts them, and that alone might have dragged an orgasm out of him. Ignis’s skin tastes clean as Gladio sucks on his fingers, feeling his callouses out with his tongue, a passable imitation of what he’d do to Ignis’s cock if he could get close enough to it and satisfying his oral fixation all the same.

Ignis’s voice is a searing whisper in Gladio’s ear. “Can I take you?”

There’s nothing else Gladio wants more right now than for Ignis to be inside him. All he’s wanted all day is to be underneath Ignis or Noct, to have either one of them touch and fill and fuck him, to give himself to them in the most intimate way he can. Gladio nods frantically, moaning around Ignis’s fingers, which earns him a light swat on his hip from Ignis and a low chuckle.

“Turn over for me then, my love.”

Ignis using an endearment ranks beside Ignis swearing in terms of rarity; he feels dizzy with desire and need as he works the words over in his mind. Once Ignis releases Gladio from his grip, he quickly rolls from his side onto his stomach, his cock trapped between belly and mattress. He’s already spreading his legs before he feels Ignis’s hands skirting along the inside of them, urging him to open up, pushing his thighs further apart.

His heartbeat seems too loud in the still quiet of their chambers. He aches all over in the painfully sweet way he always does when he’s at Ignis’s (or Noct’s) mercy. There’s a rush of air across Gladio’s skin, chillier than it should be as it catches the sweat that’s begun to bead along his back, as Ignis crawls over to the nightstand. He’s probably getting lube, but he’s being careful about the noise, because Gladio doesn’t hear the drawer open or close. Gladio takes the opportunity to study Noctis in the dim lighting—he’s conked out still, breathing slow and even, so Gladio’s eagerness hasn’t jeopardized them yet.

When Ignis returns, he drapes himself along the side of Gladio’s body, his cock sliding against Gladio’s hip now instead of his back. He peppers Gladio’s shoulder with silent, chaste kisses at the same time as slick fingers slip between his asscheeks. Gladio ruts against the bed as Ignis teases his hole with a single fingertip, grabbing a handful of luxurious sheet in one hand and crumpling it in his fist.

“Iggy!” Gladio hisses, the exclamation slightly muffled by bedding.

The kisses move from Gladio’s shoulder blade to his neck to end at his ear, Ignis’s breath coming in hot, damp puffs against the shell of it. He traces Gladio’s earlobe with his tongue before taking it in his teeth, nibbling gently—that combined with Ignis _finally_ pressing a finger inside his ass makes him moan into the pillow. Gladio knows he shouldn’t, that they’re trying not to disturb Noct, but he wants Ignis so badly at this point that his control is slipping.

“If you can’t be quiet on your own, Gladiolus, I’ll have to help you,” Ignis admonishes, using an authoritative tone typically reserved for stubborn Councilmen. Gladio isn’t the only one who’s impatient to get started, it seems. Ignis works his finger in and out of Gladio faster than he usually would. Had Gladio known how things would play out, he would have gladly worn a plug to speed things along tonight, but the surprise is part of the appeal too. As it stands, he’s barely managing to stay quiet.

Or… he’s not staying quiet. Yeah, that’s him groaning as Ignis adds a second finger to join the first, scissoring them a bit, before curving them upward and finding his prostate in record time. His cock twitches beneath him, drooling enough precome now to make a wet spot in the sheets.

It takes Gladio a moment to realize Ignis has covered his mouth with a palm, grip tight.

“So eager,” Ignis says. Gladio has no choice now but to pant into Ignis’s hand as he fingers his prostate with ruthless precision, pressing against the bundle of nerves over and over. Pleasure spreads through him in a warm rush strong enough to curl his toes. Gladio whimpers—actually _whimpers_ —as Ignis adds a third finger. The stretch of those long, clever fingers is so close to what he wants and nowhere near enough. He’s almost grateful Ignis is covering his mouth, because he’d be begging if he could talk.

As always, it seems like Ignis can read his mind. “If you need to speak,” Ignis begins, letting his fingers slip from Gladio’s hole, “tap on the headboard where I can see.”

Gladio nods in acknowledgement. As soon as he does, Ignis shifts, his hand never leaving Gladio’s mouth. Ignis situates his body so that he’s straddling Gladio, his thighs braced on the outside of Gladio’s. He can’t see from this angle, but he can feel Ignis’s body heat as he crouches over Gladio, can feel the stiff, hard length of him sliding in the cleft of his ass. He spends a solid minute rocking his hips back and forth, teasing Gladio with the promise of being fucked, drawing out a little gasp each time his cock brushes Gladio’s hole. 

Sometime—he doesn’t even know when—Ignis must have coated his cock with lube, because the thick head that nudges at Gladio’s entrance is wet and slick.

The only warning he has that Ignis is about to enter him is the flex of Ignis’s thighs against his own. The sensation of Ignis filling him is a familiar ache, the barest hint of burn flaring before disappearing and leaving a pleasant, full feeling in its wake. He forgets all about Noct and the fact that he should be quiet and moans long and loud into Ignis’s palm.

There’s a stirring of sheets beside them and both Gladio and Ignis go utterly still. Ignis stops when he’s fully seated in Gladio, buried to the hilt, and Six, all Gladio wants is for Ignis to start fucking him for real, Noct’s sleep be damned. Gladio’s left cheek sinks into the pliant cushion of pillow and affords him a clear view of Noct. 

Noct’s still asleep for now. It seems like he might be drifting towards wakefulness, shuffling in the sheets, tossing and turning on his side of the bed. It’s nothing Noct hasn’t seen before, but Gladio’s cock throbs at the thought of Noct waking up and seeing Ignis crouched over him and buried deep inside his ass, hand stifling Gladio’s moans as he fucks him. The thought of Noct watching as Ignis takes his pleasure from him makes Gladio buck his hips, desperate for any kind of friction to ease his aching, leaking cock. 

“I think you _want_ to wake him up,” Ignis whispers against Gladio’s ear, punctuating the sentence with a slow roll of his hips. “Am I not enough for you?”

Gladio grunts out a protest against Ignis’s palm. Ignis snaps his hips into Gladio with several hard, fierce thrusts, smooth enough to avoid the smack of skin against skin but no less intense for it. His cock hits all the right places inside Gladio, his eyes closing involuntarily at the force of it.

It doesn’t take long for Gladio to realize that Ignis is intentionally drawing this out. He pants and gasps into Ignis’s hand as Ignis rocks into him with deliberate slowness. Ignis lets Gladio have every last inch of him before withdrawing, teasing him with tiny, inadequate thrusts, and then repeating the cycle all over again. Gladio’s cock leaks all over the sheets beneath him. He doesn’t know what works for him more—the combination of Ignis hitting his prostate each time he fills Gladio completely, or the thought of Noct seeing him pinned and panting under Ignis. He wishes he could say his pleasure is mounting high enough to tip over into orgasm, but Ignis keeps him on the edge, a balancing act borne of long years of experience.

When Gladio opens his eyes, he finds Noct’s gaze waiting, half-lidded, one hand clearly moving beneath the sheets as he strokes himself beneath the cascade of silk.

“Don’t stop,” Noct whispers, sapphire eyes hazy with desire and voice hoarse.

There’s no stopping the groan Gladio makes into Ignis’s hand, breath coming in sharp little exhales once he finishes, hot and humid where it’s trapped against his face. A flush scorches a path from Gladio’s cheeks to his chest. He can’t tear his gaze away from Noct’s, from watching Noct watch him. He keeps the eye contact as he moans loudly and drives his hips backwards towards Ignis, a wordless cry for _more, harder, faster._

Noct gives a quiet laugh and pulls the sheets down his body, giving Gladio a perfect view of the bulge in his briefs—and of the flushed, pink cockhead that peeks over the waistband of them. Noct moves his hand in quick, even tugs underneath the fabric, and the only coherent thought Gladio forms is that he wishes it was his cock Noct was touching.

“Are you… pleased now that you have an audience?” Ignis murmurs in his ear, a breathless gasp breaking the sentence apart in the middle.

He is. Astrals help him, he is. Gladio wants Noct to see him take Ignis’s cock like he was made for it, to watch him come undone by Ignis’s touch and Noct’s watchful gaze. When Ignis snaps his hips hard and deep into Gladio several times in a row, he groans and arches his back, head lifting off the pillow and cheeks burning.

“He’s close,” Noct says quietly, moving closer so he can reach out and stroke Gladio’s cheek with his free hand. “I bet you could make him come just like this.”

“I believe so,” Ignis agrees, voice tight.

Gladio gets a white knuckled grip on the bedding as Ignis begins an unrelenting rhythm, driving his cock into Gladio at the perfect angle, over and over again. Noct’s palm on his jaw and blown out, hungry eyes threaten to swallow him whole. He wants to let go, to tumble into climax, to relieve the heat and pressure coiled low in his gut, but he hangs on by one last, stubborn thread.

“You’re so good, Gladio,” Noct whispers. “You can do it. Come for us.”

Noct’s praise severs the thread in a rush of bliss.

Gladio buries his face in the pillow as he comes with brilliant, blinding intensity. His thoughts are a wash of white as he shudders and shakes, copious amounts of warm wetness spilling between his stomach and the bed where his cock’s still trapped. At the edges of his perception, he registers Ignis’s hand falling away from his mouth and the low, heated groan he gives; a few final thrusts and Ignis is holding his pulsing cock inside Gladio, spilling his release deep inside him. Gladio can’t think straight, just lays trembling on the bed, a few involuntary tears of relief trickling from the corners of his eyes as he catches his breath.

Noct mutters something that might be ‘fuck’, but Gladio can’t honestly tell; his thoughts spin in slow, kaleidoscopic circles as he comes down from his orgasm. Gladio has enough presence of mind to watch as Noct comes, body going tense and rigid as he paints his own stomach white.

Ignis slides out of Gladio and collapses beside him, slotting his body against Gladio’s own. There are hands stroking his back—both Ignis’s and Noct’s, if he guesses right. Now that he can see Ignis again, he’s struck by how disheveled he is: cheeks pink, hair mused, eyes unfocused. He doesn’t have time to admire the sight for long, though, because Ignis captures his lips in a kiss, messy and gentle and wonderful.

“Thank you for indulging me,” Ignis says, kisses meandering from Gladio’s lips to his jawline. Gladio hums appreciatively as Ignis mouths at his neck for a few moments, applying a bit of pressure, but not enough to leave a mark.

“Hey, my turn,” Noct says with a tap on Gladio’s shoulder, an echo of the petulance from years long gone. “Least you could do for leaving me out.”

Gladio turns his head to the other side and receives a kiss from Noctis too, deep and loving. Noctis cards a hand through Gladio’s hair as their tongues slide lazily against one another, and the only thought in Gladio’s mind is how perfect he tastes.

“My apologies, Noctis,” Ignis murmurs.

If Noct answers, he doesn’t do it with words, instead pulling back from Gladio and raising up on the bed. Quiet, wet sounds come from above him, which Gladio suspects means they’re trading their own kisses—more than fine by him.

“I’ll forgive you this time,” Noct says with an impish lilt. A soft gasp follows the absolvement of guilt, a gasp that undeniably comes from Ignis. 

Yes. _This_ is what he wanted. Gladio tries to say the words out loud but finds that speech has deserted him.

“Go back to sleep,” Ignis says, running his fingers down Gladio’s back with a featherlight touch.

As sated as he is, as much as he _wants_ to sleep, even he doesn’t think he can deal with the mess Ignis has made of him. Gladio shakes his head. “Quick shower first. Then sleep.”

“Then allow me to help you up?”

“Please.” Gladio chuckles. “Astrals know I need it right now.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated if you enjoyed. <3
> 
> Come find me over on [Tumblr](http://aliatori.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AliatoriEra).


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